


wish you were (straight)

by missbenzedrine



Series: lead you through this wonderland (fem!reddie 'verse) [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/F, Fem!Reddie, Genderswap, Infidelity, Lesbian Sex, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, genderbent, lesbian!reddie, no beta we die like men, richie's a successful comedienne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22261021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbenzedrine/pseuds/missbenzedrine
Summary: Richie invites Eddie to her first show in New York post-Derry.---tbh just PWP -- Richie POV Fem!Reddie
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: lead you through this wonderland (fem!reddie 'verse) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597093
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159





	wish you were (straight)

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't already, you should read the first (much more complete) Eddie POV part of this [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179763)
> 
> if you _have_ read it, then just to clarify, in the other one, Richie invites Eddie to her show in NYC (the first time they get it on after Derry shenanigans) and _this_ is after that show. 
> 
> hope you enjoy as much as I enjoy writing fem!reddie :)

_How am I supposed to make you feel okay  
When all you do is walk the other way?  
I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay  
I just kinda wish you were gay_

_To spare my pride  
To give your lack of interest an explanation  
Don't say I'm not your type  
Just say that I'm not your preferred sexual orientation  
I'm so selfish  
But you make me feel helpless, yeah  
And I can't stand another day  
Stand another day_

-‘wish you were gay,’ billie eilish

“Well with the way things are going, I’d say we have a good chance of getting it. Gay is _very_ in right now.”

“Oh, great. You know, I’ve always wanted to be known for eating pussy, not my sense of humor.”

“Hey, Rich. You take what you can get, alright? If Netflix wants you to do a special and play up being gay, you go out there and you rattle off jokes about hoes in different area codes. Got it?” Andy’s voice pitched with what Richie recognized as her own restless anxiety. Richie knew she wasn’t always the easiest client to manage, so she tried to keep things relatively tame for her saint of a manager. But alas, being who she was, that wasn’t always a walk in the park. Being a pain in the ass just kind of came naturally.

A Netflix special was _exactly_ what she needed right now, though. After the fuck up of a show she’d done before Derry, it was a miracle that Netflix was even still looking at her at all. Andy had told her as much. But when she’d gotten back, told Andy that she wanted to come out publicly as the proud homosexual that she was at heart, her manager’s eyes had lit up with what seemed like renewed hope. Lesbian, trashmouthed comedienne? _Yes, mama_. _Let’s reel ‘er in. That’s something we can sell._

Richie didn’t love the idea of taking on a new persona. Though it wasn’t, really. If anything, it would be more like _her_ than the previous stale bullshit her writers spun for her. Stupid crap about being a nearly forty-year-old woman in the new millennium and struggling with technology and whatever the fuck. Which, for the record, she was great with technology. Her Twitter had nearly a million followers. She’d get there soon. She only posted high-quality content.

“Fine, Jesus Christ—”

“Miss Tozier,” a voice cut in from behind her, deep but polite.

“For fuck’s sake. It’s _Richie._ Miss Tozier is my fucking mom.” She spun around, almost running right into the security guard who was stood behind her in his bright yellow uniform. He took a step back, face completely expressionless, unfazed.

“Miss Tozier,” he repeated, regardless. She made sure to huff. “There’s someone here for you. Says you invited her.”

Richie’s voice easily went up an octave, eyes widening. “Eddie?”

“She said her name is Edna Kas—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie muttered, waving him off. Vaguely, she registered that she probably needed to treat her security staff a little bit better if she didn’t want a fucking mutiny on her hands. But then again, if they didn’t understand her blend of sardonic, offensive humor by now, they probably shouldn’t be her security staff. “No one’s called her Edna since the Reagan administration.”

He looked at her, confused for a moment. The guy – a kid, really, couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, with a physique that only someone his age could hold up so well – in all honesty, he probably didn’t even know who Reagan was. In a different life, he was probably someone Richie could be attracted to. In this life…well, not a snowball’s chance in Satan’s vagina.

“So…should I let her in?” he asked with more hesitance than before.

“ _Yes_. Oh my god.” Her eye roll had a stronger effect than she was hoping for, leading the guy to look actually abashed. She backtracked. “Sorry, Jack. Yeah, if you could, that would be great.”

He simply nodded and disappeared amongst the chaotic zig-zag of people rushing around. It was slower now than it had been before the show. But there was a lot of clean up and post-show shenanigans still. She’d definitely heard something about a crew party later.

She turned back to Andy who simply had an eyebrow raised at her. “Do I want to know?” her manager asked, with a tone of reserved discretion.

Richie pushed her hands through her already ridiculously frizzy hair, and shook her head. “Probably not,” she told her honestly.

How would she even explain Eddie? Everything about their situation was confusing, even to them. Forgetting each other’s existence, remembering, fucking, fighting, fucking again, and then more or less mutually deciding that they wouldn’t fuck again.

And now…well, probably fucking again.

But who was keeping count anyway?

“But you’ll let me know if it’s a problem, right?” she asked, and yeah. Okay. She had every right to ask that. Richie had a bit of a history of sleeping around, causing problems for Andy, things she had to cover up. Until Richie decided to finally come out, there’d been several short-term girlfriends that Andy had swept under the rug. Now, that was obviously less of a problem. But she understood why Andy would be cautious.

“Right,” Richie assured. Just then, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, her jaw actually dropping as she took in the woman in front of her. Eddie, her normal radiant self, was clad in the definition of a little black dress, a form-fitting little number with a slit down the thigh, the hem falling just above her knees. The dress was strapless, showcasing the soft curve of her small breasts – which Richie thanked god every night she’d had the pleasure of seeing, memorizing at least a couple of times. She intended to have more opportunities. Briefly, Richie's eyes darted down to Eddie's finger, where she could just make out the pale outline where her wedding ring was normally situated. It would appear she'd given it up for the evening. Her lightly freckled skin was covered by a sheer cardigan, and she was perched on a pair of strappy stilettos which put her eyes right about at Richie’s chin. Fucking stunning.

Over the years, Richie had let herself go. Not that she was fat. Luckily, she’d maintained a certain lankiness her entire life that made it difficult to appear chubby, even with a less-than-active lifestyle. But she definitely didn’t do anything to appear like she was in any kind of real shape. There were certain things she noticed when she was looking in the mirror – the light ring of pudge around her midsection, or the way that her thighs rubbed together more than they used to. She tried not to overthink those things though. She was in her late thirties and she couldn’t really be expected to be a beauty queen, right? Besides, there was pizza and beer to think about.

Eddie, on the other hand, was _fit._ Just looking at her, Richie could make out the light definition of muscles in her arms, the angles of her hips under her dress. She wasn’t overly muscular, but just enough, where Richie could tell that she cared – which, knowing Eddie, made a lot of sense. If Eddie wasn’t concerned about her health, then who the hell was she?

“Damn.” Eddie simply stared at her as the syllable dropped from Richie’s lips, letting it sit there for a moment before she rolled her eyes.

“Alright, asshole. My eyes are up here,” she said with a scoff.

Richie felt a hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped, spinning around. She’d completely forgotten that Andy was still present. “Okay, Rich. I’ll talk to you this weekend. As always, have fun, not too much fun,” she warned, and Richie caught the glance she threw at Eddie, the slight tension in her jaw.

When she was out of earshot, Eddie’s incredulous voice spoke up, “What? Does she think I’m some kind of escort?”

Richie barked out a laugh. “No, no. She’s just cautious about my…fraternizations.”

“Wow. Someone call Merriam fuckin’ Webster. We have a word of the day,” Eddie muttered. “Is that what I am? A fraternization?”

Her tone gave Richie pause, measuring her words for exactly what she wanted to say. Fuck. She really didn’t want to mess this up. “No…no, of course not, Eds. I wanted you to come here. You’re not just some floozy.” Okay. Well, that could have been better put.

Eddie hesitated but then let out a giggle, shoving her shoulder again. “Fucking idiot.” Richie let out a breath in relief. “The show was okay,” she continued. “I didn’t particularly like the part about how you sometimes go weeks without taking a shower and don’t even notice. Kind of made me consider going home.”

Richie chuckled. “Oh. I can shower at the hotel if you want. You can even join. Though, I’d hate to get you out of that dress…”

“What? This old thing?” She smirked, putting a hand on her hip before letting out what Richie could only interpret as a nervous laugh. “No…I, um—I actually feel very overdressed. Showing up like this to a stand-up act where the comedian dresses like she literally just rolled out of bed.”

Richie looked down, over her own carefully curated ensemble. The Hawaiian shirt she’d chosen for the evening was admittedly a bit rumpled, the pattern -- neon pink and green stripes over a black backdrop, was just obnoxious enough without being overbearing. And she knew for a fact that her hair was purposefully left bedraggled by makeup, even before she went on stage and sweated like a whore in church. It was part of her _look._

“What? This old thing?” she mimicked, throwing a wink in the other woman’s direction. “But no, Eddie…you look amazing,” she said seriously, her throat feeling dry as she looked over her again. Eddie seemed to notice, her cheeks turning a rosy shade. “Come on, I’m gonna head to the dressing room, change into my street clothes—”

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Okay, get my wallet,” she corrected and grinned at her. “Then we can head out, maybe grab a drink.”

In contrast to the majority of the bustling backstage, Richie’s dressing room was empty, not a soul to be seen. That was how she liked it. She almost always requested that the room remain empty, only allowing makeup in for the little amount that they did before she went on. Pre-show anxiety was a bitch enough already and she could really only deal with it when people weren’t breathing down her neck.

She walked to the vanity where her wallet sat on the surface and her jacket slung over the chair. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt _actual_ breath on her neck, and she promptly made a mental correction. She could definitely deal with some people breathing down her neck. Well, one person. The only person allowed in this room at the moment.

Eddie’s arms wrapped around her from behind, and her lips found the spot just at the top of Richie’s spine. Richie’s own hand came up to cover Eddie’s fingers, lacing them together.

“I’ve been thinking about that night too,” the other woman’s voice just below her ear, followed by feather light kisses. Richie remembered. Just about a week ago, she’d texted Eddie: _i can’t get you out of my head –_ among other similar sentiments. The next morning, looking at her phone had been followed by the usual waves of post-drinking anxiety. Part of her had worried that Eddie wouldn’t even show tonight.

Like she was trying to approach an unsuspecting animal, Richie turned around. She didn’t want to scare her away. But Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. Her arms came up, looping around Richie’s neck. And it was in that moment, looking into her chocolate eyes, that she realized Eddie wanted this too. And maybe it would be complicated. But at the second, it didn’t seem like any of that mattered. Eddie was here. She’d made the decision to come. And Richie hadn’t exactly been subtle about how she’d expected things to go. But she’d come anyway.

The fabric of Eddie’s dress was silky beneath her fingertips as she brought her hands to rest on the swell of her hips. She laced her fingers on the soft indentation of Eddie’s back, lightly pulling her in. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she admitted as Eddie’s breath ghosted over her lips.

“Are you kidding? And miss it when you totally made a dick of yourself for an hour on stage?” Eddie’s voice somehow managed to remain sexy despite the words.

A smile made its way onto Richie’s lips accompanied by a laugh. “Touché…”

Her hands trailed up over Eddie’s back, tracing the curve of her spine until she reached the top of the zipper at her back. “Holy fuck, are you not wearing a bra?” Her fingertips searched for the elastic band but failed to find it, and she looked down to find Eddie grinning up at her.

“Maybe…”

“Fuck. Why do you do this shit to me?” Richie asked, actually groaning and tilting her head back, immediately inviting Eddie’s lips to her exposed throat. She accepted.

“It wouldn’t go with the dress. I tried…but it kept showing, and just seemed kind of unnecessary,” Eddie responded against Richie’s skin, shrugging her shoulders.

“She says casually.” Richie rolled her eyes, but brought her head back down, hands coming up to the back of Eddie’s head. “You drive me absolutely nuts, babe…”

“Oh…yeah. That might have been part of the decision too.” Eddie smirked and leaned in halfway, forcing Richie to come the other half, which she did eagerly, catching Eddie’s lips in a hungry kiss. Her fingers, rough and impatient, tugged at Eddie’s zipper as Eddie pushed her back against the vanity. Richie groaned as she was forced to sit on the surface, the other woman easily finding her place between her legs. The zipper at Eddie’s back came down with a satisfying sound, and the strapless dress only needed a bit more convincing until Richie’s hands were able to successfully cup the curve of Eddie’s bare breasts, like she was the high school quarterback with the prom queen in the back of his old Toyota Corolla – jizzing in his pants at the existence of hard nipples. God. She really had to write this shit down.

Richie’s thighs wrapped around Eddie’s hips, ankles hooking behind her as she pulled her in as close as she could manage. Her thumbs traced mindless circles around the pink buds of Eddie’s nipples, hardly coming up for air as the other woman kissed her senseless.

“Fuck, Eds. This is what the hotel room is for,” Richie said finally, her voice low and gravelly, as if after years of disuse. At some point, Eddie’s dress had completely dropped to the floor, where it now sat puddled around her feet, completely forgotten. Richie’s hands teased up and down her sides, still in disbelief that this was happening.

“I know…I couldn’t wait,” Eddie told her. She’d switched methods, deciding rather to pepper kisses along Richie’s jaw and neck, still holding her close by her loose dark ringlets.

When Eddie’s fingers started to claw at her jeans, Richie stood, and had gotten the zipper of her jeans down when a knock on the door, stark and impossibly loud in the empty room, interrupted them. She groaned in annoyance. “What?” she yelled.

“Rich? You got a minute?” It was Andy. Fuck.

“Not really, Andy. What’s up?” she managed to call back, despite the fact that Eddie’s hands were still working at her jeans, her lips on Richie’s neck. She could almost feel the way her mouth was curled into a smirk against her skin. She didn’t stop her though.

“I just got off the phone with Netflix, Rich. You got the special!”

Eddie’s hands stopped on her waist, and Richie looked down to see Eddie’s wide eyes staring back at her.

“O-okay, thanks,” she stuttered in response, eyes still locked on Eddie’s.

“Richie. Did you hear me? We got Netflix, babe. We’re going big time,” Andy’s voice came through. Richie could tell it was killing her not to walk through that door. But that was why she liked Andy. She got the job done, but didn’t cross boundaries. She couldn’t have asked for a better manager.

“Yeah. I heard you, Andy. It…it’s great. Really. Uh, can we talk later?” her voice pitched up at the end when Eddie started moving again, unbuttoning Richie’s shirt with renewed vigor, before she popped open Richie’s front-clasp bra.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. We can. Congrats, though. We’ll talk back in LA,” her manager said with a hint of understanding, before Richie thankfully heard the sound of her heels clacking away.

“Sounds like we have something to celebrate,” Eddie said with a chuckle before latching her lips around Richie’s nipple, sucking and biting at it, her fingers pinching the other one. Richie let out a contented and agreeing hum, her eyes falling closed. Eddie’s hands finally managed to pull her jeans down over her hips, taking her panties with them. And then that Brunette Beauty sent straight from God dropped to her knees right in front of her and Richie threw her head back.

“Oh my god. Why? Why are you so fucking perfect?” she said with another exaggerated groan. She kicked her pants off, having to awkwardly toe off her shoes in the process, Eddie quickly growing impatient below her.

“You wanna hurry up there, Rich? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

“Alright, alright.” Finally, she got the pants untangled from her legs and she hopped back onto the surface of the vanity. It wasn’t more than a beat before Eddie leaned in, head positioned between Richie’s spread thighs. She tilted her hips forward for her as much as she could, Eddie’s breath ghosting over her sending a shiver down her spine. She grounded her hands in Eddie’s hair, gasping when her tongue teased her folds experimentally.

Eddie’s fingers grazed the inside of her thigh and she jerked into the touch just as Eddie started to suck on her clit, driving her absolutely mad. “Fuck, Sweet Cheeks, I said it before and I’ll say it again, for someone who’s ne—” She cut herself off with a moan when Eddie pushed her fingers into her, her hands tightening in her hair. “N-never done this before…you’re a god damn natural,” she finished, her voice ragged as Eddie flicked her tongue over her, raw white-hot pleasure coursing through her body. She hooked a leg over Eddie’s shoulder, pulling her in closer.

“Years and years of practiced and perfected masturbation technique,” Eddie answered, pulling away, still working her fingers inside of her.

“Uh-huh,” Richie mumbled, her toes curling. Eddie seemed to know exactly what she needed, what she had to do to push her just there, pressing all the right buttons, quirking just the right way.

It wasn’t long before she felt the pressure building in the pit of her stomach, Eddie’s fingers quirking against that spot inside of her until her orgasm sent waves through her spine. “Holy fuck,” she breathed, ragged and strained. Slowly, Eddie stood back up, crashing her lips into Richie’s, arms wrapping around her waist. “Sorry…I…I’ve just been thinking about doing that all week,” Eddie breathed, when they came up for air.

“Eddie,” Richie said, voice taking on a serious tone. “If you ever want to apologize to me for anything, please… _please,_ dear god, don’t make apologize for giving me an orgasm. Because that is always going to be unnecessary…”

Eddie giggled, leaning into Richie’s embrace, her body warm and soft against her. She could die like this, she realized. She could die right here in Eddie’s arms and just go with absolutely zero regrets. It was all _this,_ right here. The love of her life in her arms. 

That was how she knew she was fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> probably more to come, because I'm in love with this 'verse
> 
> thanks for reading, comments make me so happy! tbh if you just want to talk about lesbian Reddie, I'm so game, man -- I'm deep in this rabbit hole (us queer girls gotta stick together <3 <3)


End file.
